


Master of Death, Master of Monster

by Quido



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hellsing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Master of Death Harry Potter, Other, Post - Battle of London (Hellsing)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 16:37:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11764005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quido/pseuds/Quido
Summary: Harry doesn't mind the responsibilities that come with earning the title of 'Master of Death', most times the world only needs a nudge to keep things balanced. However, every now and then he's required to take a more active approach.Integra has served crown and country her entire life, placing Duty above Family as she's led the Hellsing Organization to police the darkness and protect the innocent. Now time and age conspire against her and the Blood Contract that restrains Alucard is threatened.Time marches on, and Death will collect its due.





	1. Chapter 1

Harry took a sip from his teacup as his eyes roamed over the headlines of the newspapers spread across the kitchen table. He let out a quiet sigh as he read the words emblazoned above the fold on the majority of the editions before him. Mundane or Magical all the papers carried exclamations about the thirtieth anniversary of Britain's tragic victory over darkness which had occurred on this day. Giving his head a shake, Harry considered the mutual obliviousness of the two worlds he lived in. On this day thirty years ago, in what was now commonly known as “The Zeppelin Affair” London fell. In twenty four short hours she suffered a loss of life and wholesale destruction of property beyond all of the damage sustained during the entirety of World War II. On the same day the United States lost their President, most of their upper levels of governmental personnel and over five thousand civilians in what had been called a coordinated bio-terror attack, crippling their ability to come to England's aid. Finally, Harry, his friends and the rest of the Wizarding world defeated Voldemort and his forces at the Battle of Hogwarts. Due to the chaos that occurred as the dust settled, with three governments scrambling to scrape together enough survivors with the skills to run their respective establishments, the statute of secrecy remained as strong as ever. The Magical citizenry of England continued to quietly exist under the radar of the Crown and their efforts to renew and revitalize London into a shining example of modern efficiency and safety. To be fair the Wizarding World had experienced a brief period of renovation and renewal after the desolation of Voldemort and the damage his followers caused to Diagon Alley and the Ministry of Magic, but compared to the rest of London the improvements were mere baby steps. 

To the average English Wizard life had quickly returned to what passed as 'normal' and they found no reason to change what had worked for them and their families for generations. Harry let out a little scoff, he'd long ago realized that Hermione was absolutely correct with her declaration that most Wizards couldn't be arsed with concepts like logic or common sense, since with magic they could pretty much ignore anything they didn't understand. Just after the battle there was a push to make the British Wizarding World more open, with a focus of stamping out the Pureblood supremacy that had provided Voldemort with so much of his backing. This resulted in a measure of greater equality among wizards and an increased compassion and understanding for the intelligent magical beings wizards commonly interacted with, but overall the changes were more in response to the the wholesale loss of many of the influential pure-blood families who had followed Voldemort to their doom and the need for warm bodies to take up duties and positions vital to the continuation of the status quo. It was with a bittersweet smile that Harry remembered the impassioned speeches Hermione gave before the Wizengamot urging the adoption of laws to drag the British Wizarding World, kicking and screaming, out of the Dark Ages. It had taken the birth of her second set of twins to slow Hermione down and give the Wizengamot a chance to recover and settle into something that could actually enforce the whirlwind of laws and torts that Hermione had single handedly shoved down their collective throats. Harry had no doubt that the British Wizards would thank her in the future for being one of the top reformers and law makers and setting them on the path that would keep them strong in the future, but he also knew that her heavy handed methods did not gain her many friends. Taking another sip of tea Harry acknowledged that he was also truly grateful for Hermione's success for a purely selfish reason. Her tackling of often incendiary topics had drawn the attention of the press away from him and his precarious position as the Wizarding World's 'Savior' or 'Chosen One'. The press had always followed a 'love/hate' relationship with Harry. Singing his praises one day only to turn around and kick him in the teeth the next. It took a while for the press to turn against him after the defeat of Voldemort, but it eventually did. First it was his 'failed romance' with Ginny Weasley, although their relationship had ended amicably as Ginny realized that Harry would always be seen as a 'celebrity' in the Wizarding World and she quickly grew tired of living a life constantly under scrutiny of strangers. Second was his 'abandonment' of his heritage, evidenced by his continuing support of Hermione's efforts to push new laws ensuring the equality of half-bloods and muggle-born in the government that built itself from the ashes left from the second war with Voldemort. Yet it was the retrospective presented at the twenty fifth anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts that truly convinced Harry that it was time to pull back from the Wizarding World and seek his fortunes elsewhere. In a special commemorative issue the Prophet had published a series of photographs that clearly illustrated that Harry's appearance had not changed in the intervening twenty odd years since the end of the battle; and while it was well known and generally accepted that powerful wizards aged slowly, twenty five years without a noticeable change was far outside the norm. The doomsayers of the Wizarding public grabbed onto this anomaly with both hands, crying out that it was evidence that Harry was practicing 'forbidden' magics and was simply waiting to lull them into a state of complacency before he showed his true colors as a Dark Lord and took over. While at first Harry managed to laugh it off, as the months rolled by with no sign of an end to it, Harry began to plan his withdrawal from the magical world he'd grown up in.

Once again he raised his teacup in a silent salute to Hermione, it had been her stubborn badgering in the years after the Battle of Hogwarts that had forced Harry to complete his mundane education and give him the skills to blend in where ever he chose to live. It was due to her constant nagging that Harry had eventually graduated with three university degrees. The first two were in Criminal Justice, and Forensics. It had come as a surprise to him that after dealing with Voldemort, his Death Eaters and the Ministry of Magic's forces that Harry still had an interest in Law Enforcement, but then again Mundane Law Enforcement was completely different from the Wizarding World's Auror Corps. With the perspective of this additional education, Harry could only shake his head at just how far the British Wizarding World was falling behind the rest of Europe. Their techniques had improved since the fall of Voldemort, but they were achingly slow at adopting new methods, leaving their forces about as effective as the British Police force was in the late eighteen hundreds. Harry's third degree was in Business Management, a necessity due to the conflict he had with the Goblins of Gringotts at the end of the War against Voldemort. Through a lot of hard work and perseverance Harry had learned how to handle what was left of the Potter Estate after the Goblins had taken their reparations and had eventually turned it around to make a reasonable profit in the Non-Magical World.

These days Harry tried to keep his mind away from comparing English Wizards with anyone else. It had been five years since he had actively involved himself in that community beyond keeping somewhat in touch with the families of his friends and the rare shopping trip to Diagon Alley. As far as the majority of the Wizarding World knew 'Harry Potter', hero of the Second War against Voldemort and rising Dark Lord, was dead and would stay that way. Harry had finally gained something he'd always desired once he discovered his unwitting fame in the Wizarding World at age eleven, anonymity. Due to a bit of his typical poor luck Harry Potter was caught in a traffic accident, ten months after the Daily Prophet had published their damning retrospective, and killed. The only real problem with the whole affair was that Harry didn't stay dead. Refreshing his cup of tea, Harry made his way out to the porch of his house and made himself comfortable on one of the bench swings that were there and remembered the events that led him to his current situation.

\--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--FLASHBACK--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--

Unlike the incident during the Battle of Hogwarts, where Harry was given the choice of returning to the world or proceeding to the afterlife in the ghostly rendition of Platform 9 ¾, this time Harry found himself standing in an office decorated in a very dark masculine theme, facing what could only be described as a personification of Death. Skeletal and robed in the deepest of black, the figure demanded respect without saying a word. Quite politely, the Being explained that due to the fact that Harry held undisputed ownership of all three items the Wizards called 'the Deathly Hallows', and had possessed them all at one point on his person simultaneously, he was now considered 'The Master of Death' and was basically immortal, until such time as 'Magic' decided to pass the title on to someone else. 

Gaining the title of ‘Master of Death’ also came with a few responsibilities. Being a position that was granted by ‘Magic’ Harry would have to answer any ‘call’ put out to rebalance the flow of magical energy in the world. This could mean stopping the actions of either Light or Dark oriented Wizards, protecting a magical creature, defending the habitat for an endangered species, helping put down a dangerous beast, encouraging the growth of the Wizarding economy, promoting education of Squibs and Hedge-wizards, or any number of things. To help Harry figure out what needed to be done ‘Magic’ had gifted him with a few new abilities. With concentration Harry would be able to ‘see’ the flow of magic around him so he would know where things needed fixing, and he would also instinctively know what he was being asked to do once he figured out the key players in the situation.

When Harry asked about how long the previous 'Master of Death' had held the title the Being shrugged, letting him know that Harry was the first wizard to reunite the three objects, while meeting the objects requirements of ownership, since they had been given to the three Peverell brothers, so it couldn't say how long Harry might be 'Master of Death'. After Harry had a chance to recover from that bombshell the Being did share that being 'Master of Death' had some perks with the position. If ever Harry was 'killed' he would find himself in the Being's office where he would be offered the option of being healed and miraculously surviving whatever incident had 'killed' him, or of changing his appearance and essentially 'hitting the reset button' on his life, at which point he would be reinserted into the world at approximately the point where he died with a body left behind to explain his death and gaining a new identity. As part of the magic associated with being 'Master of Death' all of his wealth, property and holdings would be shifted to the new identity. The magic of his position would generate wills, and all other appropriate paperwork for the transfer, and automatically file them with the authorities. The Being did warn Harry that in the case of 'self inflicted death' these options were not available and while Harry would survive with a 'near death experience' he would also be left to heal naturally from whatever injuries resulted from the suicide attempt. In the event of a 'death' it would be up to Harry to reveal the true connection of his new identity to anyone who had known him before he'd 'died'.

Considering that what brought Harry before him today was his first 'death' since becoming 'Master of Death' the Being encouraged Harry to take the option where he would change identities, allowing him to complete his escape from the fickle clutches of the British Wizarding World. Since with the identity change, there would be a body left behind, there would be less of a chance that new rumors would arise that Harry had followed the path of Voldemort, leaving Horcruxes behind to cheat his death. While this option would cause his remaining friends some grief it was Harry's best bet to get out from under the clouds of his past. As a parting recommendation, the Being advised Harry to contact Gringotts to have a full inheritance test performed so that he could establish his new identity in the Wizarding World. It would be up to him to inform and prove to anyone else that he had changed identities if he wished to continue associating with friends from his previous life. When Harry admitted that he'd had difficulties with the Goblins after the actions he took to rid the world of Voldemort the Being assured him that the magic surrounding the position of 'Master of Death' would encourage the Goblins to end their grudge and treat him fairly, and that it would be safe for Harry to open new vaults with them if he desired.

The office then faded away and Harry woke suddenly to a hand shaking him and a voice asking if he was alright. Opening his eyes he found himself sprawled on a sidewalk, apparently thrown clear of the accident that had claimed his previous 'life'. Looking over the scene he cringed at the wreckage where a Lorry had crashed into a fully loaded Double Decker Bus. Emergency crews were on the scene and the air was filled with shouting from the firemen, the shrill cries of injured people, and the sirens of ambulances as people were whisked away from the scene. Moving carefully, Harry gave himself a once over and found that beyond some scuffs, bruises, and torn clothing he was relatively uninjured. The officer who had roused him helped Harry to his feet and escorted him over to a waiting ambulance to be triaged. While Harry was waiting to be seen by the medics he checked his pockets and found a fold of cash, a ring of keys and identification for a “James Harris Evans” of Number Eight, Wisteria Walk, Little Winging, Surrey. Harry frowned at the information, until he realized that the medics would be asking questions about who he was and where he lived as they checked him for possible head injuries. Being from Little Winging would allow Harry to answer any of their questions with a minimum of fuss, and it would be easy to claim that while James was his first name he mostly went by Harry. The examination by the medics found that he was suffering from badly bruised ribs, some mild scuffing and additional bruising on his arms and legs. They were quite amazed at his condition, since from the evidence he'd been thrown from the top level of the bus upon impact and had fallen to the ground from a height of about ten feet. Harry was strongly advised to go to the closest A&E if any of his injuries worsened or if he noticed any changes to his vision or hearing, but at this point he would probably be most comfortable recovering at home, with the use of over the counter pain relief.

Once the medics had finished looking him over the officer who had been assisting him took down his contact information and arranged for a cab home. Not having any better ideas, Harry allowed himself to be driven to Little Winging and the house he apparently owned on Wisteria Walk. It had been over twenty five years since Harry had been to Little Winging, but recalling the kind of people who lived here he wasn't surprised to find that the majority of the neighborhood appeared unchanged from the time he lived here with his Aunt and Uncle. As the cab pulled up in front of Number Eight, Harry could feel a smile grow upon his face. Unlike the houses to either side, Number Eight was unique. Surrounded by two storey homes, the smaller storey and a half bungalow sported a deep porch across the entire front with swings on either side of the round topped front door. The front garden was edged with a waist high cast iron fence and filled with a stunning array of ornamental plantings and well trimmed shrubbery. Heavy iron pergolas supported the ropy stems of mature Wisteria all around the yard, making cosy nooks, many with a featured sculpture or bench underneath. A narrow drive ran along one side to the back yard, where Harry could see a single car garage set behind the house, while along the other side Harry spied a meandering stone path that wove through additional plantings and around some low benches that appeared to be set out for anyone who wanted to just sit and appreciate the view. Harry rolled his eyes a bit over how much time he'd be spending on care of the fantastic gardens, but he wouldn't want this house to be any less unique. 

Thanking the driver for the lift and giving him a hefty tip from the money he found in his pocket with his identification, Harry exited the cab and made his way up to the front door. Fishing the ring of keys out of his pocket he discovered the one for the front door and let himself in. As his fingers touched the doorknob he felt a sharp static like shock and a wave of warmth wrapped around him. Blinking, he realized that this was a magical house and the wards just accepted him as owner. Giving the driver a final wave, Harry opened the door and stepped inside. Just inside he found a benched hall tree with a nearby boot tray. In cubbies under the seat he found several pairs of comfy house shoes waiting. Taking off his coat and hanging it on a convenient hook Harry then sat and took off his shoes, replacing them with the slippers provided. As he did this he noticed a silver tray set on a nearby table with a scroll of parchment on it. The ribbon that secured the parchment was what really drew his eyes as it was black and 'blinking' with little skulls. Finishing with his shoes Harry stood and picked up the waiting parchment. He made his way to the closest room, which he quickly identified as the living room and took a seat on a comfortable wingback chair at one end of a painted trunk that apparently served as a coffee table, its top surface protected with a framed piece of glass or clear acrylic. Opening the scroll Harry began to read.

_Master,_

_As you have noticed this is a magical property. While the yard and house are not protected by the Fidelus charm, due to the house being included on several lists of notable British homes, it is covered by the best anti-theft, fire-proofing, flood-proofing, and safety wards currently available. The levels above ground are styled to pass as a non-magical home should you have non-magical guests, or want to catch the football on the entertainment system. The levels below ground carry stronger warding, including the Fidelus charm, for which you are the secret-keeper. The sub-levels contain a potions lab, storage, wine cellar, armory, practice room, emergency shelter, vault, and elf quarters. There are currently two house elves assigned to the property: Dusty, is assigned the upkeep of the house, and will perform any interior maintenance or housekeeping chores. Clip, is assigned the upkeep of the grounds, and will maintain the gardens and do any maintenance to the garage and exterior of the house. Both are currently 'free' elves, rescued from abusive homes. They are healthy, but would benefit greatly from binding to your service._

_To give you time to adjust to your new status I have taken the liberty of setting up James Harris Evans as an 'Angel Investor'. This will provide you with the greatest flexibility, considering your education and possible careers, and allow you to follow whatever interests catch your fancy. You'll understand more once you contact Gringotts and have a complete inheritance test performed. With the proper application of your Business Management skills, it will not be necessary for you to seek employment at any sort of structured job, which will help camouflage the fact that you no longer age on a human or Wizarding scale._

_Ever your servant,_

_Death_

\--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--

It took several hours for Harry to go through everything in his new home. He was glad that he took the time, working through each room, sorting through shelves, drawers, cupboards and closets left him with a feeling of satisfaction and rightness, helping him to accept his new situation and settle his mind. Once he had gone through the house he summoned Dusty and Clip, the House Elves assigned to the property. They arrived with sharp cracks, dressed in plain sleeveless tunics that had once been pillowcases, belted at the waist with bits of rope. Both appeared to be young adults. Dusty had bright blue eyes, a rounded nose, the large ears of her kind, and a head of pale sandy colored hair, neatly braided and coiled at the back of her head. Clip had rich brown eyes, a pointed nose, the expected ears, and a head of dark black hair, trimmed short and close to his scalp. Harry was glad that they bore different features from the other House Elves he'd known in the past. It would have been difficult for him to step into this new life being confronted with memories of Dobby, Winky, or even Kreature, every day. 

“Elves, do you wish to be bound to my house? To serve my line, and those I name family with honor and pride? To perform your duties to the best of your ability, be ever willing to learn new tasks and asking for assistance when necessary?” Harry intoned seriously, knowing that how he addressed them at this moment would affect how strongly the Elves bonded with him, and how much access they would have to his magic. The Elves’ eyes grew large as they felt Harry’s magic start to rise with the initiation of the binding ritual and realized just how powerful he was. They quickly glanced at each other before nodding vigorously and exclaiming in their squeaky voices, “Oh yes! Please!”

With a wry grin and a nod Harry placed his hands on each of their heads and addressed the Elves, “Dusty, Clip, I welcome you into my home and my service.” His magic pulsed as the Elves were accepted and bound to his magic, before he continued, “Since our home is in a non-magical area there are a few adjustments we will need to make to help us blend in with our neighbors. I was raised in the non-magical world, will you accept my guidance in this?"

“Oh Yes, Master Evans, sir!” chimed Clip as Dusty nodded enthusiastically.

“Very Good,” Harry praised. “Now first of all, I forbid either of you to punish yourselves.” Harry held up his hand to forestall the Elves reactions to this pronouncement, “If you feel you've made a mistake, disobeyed an order, broken anything, or think I'd disapprove of something I want you to be honest and talk to me so that we can come up with an appropriate solution together, understand?”

“Yes, sir!” Clip and Dusty answered.

“Good. Now I know that both of you are capable of using illusions to get your work done while remaining unseen, but here in the non-magical world having chores completed without evidence of someone doing it will bring us unwanted attention that could put the Statute of Secrecy at risk. So, while it may make you uncomfortable, I want you to have a visible presence when you work. Is it possible to use your illusions to appear human?”

Clip adopted a contemplative look and Dusty gripped her pillowcase as she thought. After a moment Clip gave a slow nod, “It shoulds be, Master Evans, but I's not tried to.”

“Okay, that will be something we'll need to work on, and I'm sure that the less you need to mask the easier it will be so we'll need to do something about your uniforms.” Harry said as he saw the Elves start to fidget in discomfort. He sighed and sought to reassure them, “Dusty, Clip, I'm not forbidding the use of magic. I am just saying that we need to be smart and crafty when we use it here. Non-magical people, like our neighbors, will be paying attention to us since I am new to the neighborhood. Non-magicals need to see someone working in the yard, or a hired service caring for the flowers and lawn. They need to catch sight of someone cleaning and cooking inside if the blinds are open. It is expected to occasionally see someone unloading their shopping from the boot of their car, or a cab, or walking back from the market with the groceries. This house is known in the non-magical world for its gardens and well kept appearance, we can't suddenly hide it with magic, too many people know about it and it is listed with pictures in several guide books of the area. What this means is that we will be faced every day with the challenge of blending into our surroundings, yeah? It won't matter too much if your chores don't take quite as long as they would without magic, if the house is dust free and neat as a pin, or if say the lawn mower never needs a fill of petrol, just that there is a visible reason for the work being done, see? Do you think you can meet this challenge?”

As Harry spoke to them the Elves expressions cleared and their eyes gained a spark that Harry remembered from when he'd asked Dobby's help with a challenging, or dangerous task. By the end of his clarifying statement they were both nodding eagerly. “Alright, so to help you with 'keeping up appearances' I would like you both to wear uniforms appropriate to the work you're assigned. It is not acceptable in the non-magical world to go around dressed in pillow cases, tea towels, or the like, our neighbors would think that I was cruel or abusive. So, we'll need to put together outfits of shirts, vests, overalls, trousers, skirts, aprons, shoes, boots, jackets, hats, and such to be your uniforms. We will find patterns and I will provide you with the cloth, thread, buttons and such so that you can make them yourself. Also everything will be marked with my crest so I don't want you to consider any part of your uniform to be 'clothes', understood? These will be signs of your employment to my house. I will provide you with materials to replace them when they get worn, but I will inform you plainly when that happens, understood?”

“Yes sir, Master Evans, sir.” Clip and Dusty replied with serious expressions.

Over the next month Harry settled into living at Wisteria Walk. He spent much of his time going over his finances to make sure that his accounts in the Non-Wizarding world had transferred to his new identity with the ‘death’ of Harry Potter. He also investigated what sort of career being an ‘Angel Investor’ entailed. The rest of his time was spent establishing James Harris Evans as a well monied respectable businessman, who’s success could be seen in his luxurious yet understated lifestyle, including his employment of both a gardener and housekeeper for his relatively small home. He hired an architect and a builder to create a ‘little people’s’ apartment in an added half storey to the one car garage that sat behind the house to help enforce Clip and Dusty’s place in his household. It was a bit tricky to create Mundane identities for the two House Elves. There were a lot of fees and a bit of fast talking to ‘prove’ that their earlier I.D.’s and records had been lost, that they had no outstanding bills or financial accounts to help prove they existed, and that there were no outstanding police matters concerning them. Harry had been close to tearing out his hair when another of Death’s letters arrived suggesting that he tell the authorities that James had ‘rescued’ Clip and Dusty from a poorly run Gypsy carnival, shortly before the organization was shut down by the police on charges of animal cruelty and human trafficking. Death also provided enough details for the authorities to associate Harry’s information with an actual event, which neatly cleared the way to establish Clip and Dusty Evanson as English Citizens in the Non-Magical World.

\--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--END FLASHBACK --oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little more of how Harry's day is going, then we'll see what's going on with Big Red. Sound Good?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I've given everyone enough clues to know when things are happening, but just to make sure... This begins Thirty years after the Battle of Hogwarts and when Millennium attacked London in Hellsing Ultimate.

The morning was getting on as Harry roused himself from his memories of his first days on Wisteria Walk. With today being an official day of remembrance for those lost in the Zeppelin Affair the English Banks were closed and many business were operating on shorter hours. People were encouraged to spend the day with their families and friends, with several communities holding fairs, markets, or festivals of entertainment. For Little Winging and Wisteria Walk this meant that plenty of people were out walking and admiring their neighbor’s gardens and yard work. So Harry engaged himself in the pleasures of people watching. As he enjoyed watching the world pass by, Dusty made sure he was well supplied with fresh tea and a book to read, while Clip puttered about the yard ensuring that the people out walking with their dogs or pushing buggies with young children respected the property that he’d put so much time into. It had taken a while for Dusty and Clip to get used to the idea that it was expected that they would interact with the neighbors on an almost daily basis, and Harry was glad to hear people give friendly greetings to them as they passed. Working with Harry they developed glamours that hid their more ‘elfin’ features, but found they couldn’t do too much to make themselves appear taller. So the pair were still quite short, easily falling into the medical classification of ‘Little People’ being under 4’10” or 147cm tall. This had initially caused a few rumors and confrontations about Harry taking advantage of them until Clip and Dusty became quite vocal about defending Harry and what a good employer he was by providing them with not only their uniforms, tools, and excellent pay, but also with a cozy apartment built and furnished taking into account their small stature. Once word got around about how the pair defended Harry and loved working for him the tongue waggers were silenced and the new residents of Number 8 Wisteria Walk were accepted into the neighborhood as a bit of quirky color to the area.

Not wanting to spend the entire day loafing about Harry finished his cup and went back inside to dress in some knock about clothes so he could lend Clip a hand with the ‘tall’ chores. Joining Clip in the yard with his own bucket of hand tools caused the elf to shake his head and tisk, “Now, Mr. Harry, you’re gonna git me in trouble with Dusty fir bein’ lazy iffin’ ya do too much. Why not go to the pub an’ see if ya kin start a game of those Darts ya like so much?”

“Tell you what, I’ll only help until Dusty calls us in for lunch. Then I’ll go down to the pub. It’s too early for any of the lads to be drinking and you know I won’t convince anyone to play against me until they’ve had a pint or two.” Harry answered with a grin. As a result of all the accuracy training he’d done both in Hogwarts as part of the Defense Association and later as a way to keep up and improve his skills Harry was ‘deadly’ with a set of darts. Most of the locals refused to challenge him, but every now and then he could convince them to play if they’d brought guests from out of town, or he offered to buy the drinks and put himself under a high enough handicap.

Clip nodded, “Aye, there’s that...”

The pair spent the rest of the morning in the yard, until they were called inside to clean up before lunch. After a light lunch of toasted sandwiches and soup, Harry changed into some neat casual clothes and decided to take a leisurely and meandering stroll to the local. He took his time, stopping in an occasional shop that was open and had interesting items in the window and spending a good chunk of time in a used book store looking over their new arrivals and their selection of mystery, true crime and detective novels to see if there was anything he wanted to add to his own library. He took a few interesting selections to the desk for the clerk to hold until he’d had a chance to check the shelves at home, and purchased a new release by an author he’d enjoyed in the past.

Leaving the book store he continued on to the pub, the evening crowd was just starting to gather as Harry put in an order of fish and chips with a pint of Newcastle at the bar and snagged a seat near the dart boards. Using his new book to mark his chair, Harry made quick work of chalking his name up on the scoreboard listing the game as ‘Hunter’ with a three ‘hit’ handicap for himself. To play Hunter Darts it normally meant that a player’s first dart would ‘mark their target’, or the number they were ‘hunting’, their second hit on the same number would ‘claim’ that number and a third hit would ‘close’ that number out to the other players and add to the successful ‘hunter’s’ score. As long as a number only had a single hit, or ‘mark’ on it and wasn’t ‘claimed’ it could be ‘cleared’ by another player landing a hit. However clearing a ‘mark’ didn’t automatically shift that number to the new player. To ‘clear’ and ‘snag’ a ‘mark’ the new player would have to make two successful hits on it in a round. With Harry’s handicap rules in play he would have to hit a number six times before it counted as ‘closed’ and the usual rules to a ‘claimed’ number didn’t apply, his opponents could chip away at his successful hits until he managed to ‘close’ his targeted number. It was Harry’s hope that with a three hit handicap he could entice some of the other regulars to gang up on him and make it a fun and interesting challenge.

Fortune was with him and a couple of regulars brought out of town guests with them who thought themselves up to the challenge and were interested in learning a ‘new’ game to take back home. Now with skilled players a game of Hunter can be quick or it can drag out for hours if the players decide to ‘Hunt to Clear’ and focus on hitting numbers their opponents have put ‘marks’ before they can be claimed or closed. The game ends when all the numbers plus the ‘bullseye’ have been ‘closed’, with the win going to the ‘Hunter’ who has closed the most numbers. Harry’s opponents kept things lively as they got the hang of the game and the bell for last call was ringing as they finally came to an end. With the handicap rules in play the scoring was a bit tricky, but Harry squeaked a win by a single point. Thanking the other players for an enjoyable evening Harry picked up their tabs, causing a round of cheers, and made his way home.

\--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo-- ELSEWHERE --oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--

His Countess was dying. From the moment she welcomed him home he'd known. The precious drop of her blood, offered with the same intent as a lover's kiss, told him as much. Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing, survivor of the Fall of London, Head of the Hellsing Organization for the past four decades, and Master of the seals which kept him from rampaging across Europe and drowning the world in blood, was falling victim to one of her own vices. The moment her offering of blood had touched his tongue he'd tasted the cancer growing in her lungs, a legacy of the unfiltered cigarillos she'd smoked for most of her life. While, with his help, the illness had been detected early, and her doctors were optimistic that with treatment and a few lifestyle adjustments Integra could still look forward to many more years of living ahead of her, that was not the only concern for the No Life King. The other astounding thing Alucard learned from his Countess' gift was that she was still untouched.

Sir Integra had been Head of Hellsing since age twelve, she was twenty two at the Fall of London. Alucard had been “Missing In Action” for thirty years after that battle as he struggled to assimilate the powers he'd absorbed from Warrant Officer Schrödinger and follow Integra's final order to him that he not disappear and to return to her. In all that time Integra had continued to put duty before all and remained celibate. Now age, biology and her illness had conspired to leave him without hope that there would be a new generation of Hellsings to take up the blood contract he'd forged with Abraham all those years ago. To say that he was shocked and concerned about this state of affairs was like saying his hellhound, Baskerville, was a cuddly little puppy. Without the bonds of the Contract restricting him the Fall of London might only be remembered as a footnote to the opening salvo that brought about the end of the world. He'd never denied that he was a Monster, that he deserved to be bound in chains of magic and controlled by another's will, but what seemed to have been forgotten was that as much as Abraham's Contract kept him bound it was also what kept him sane.

In the days and weeks following his return to Hellsing Manor, Alucard continued to adjust to the changes in his powers. In some ways he was much weaker than he'd been before the battle. No longer could he call upon the legions of souls he'd consumed to bring forth waves of troops to throw into battle. Now his very existence was tied to how he thought and a continuing belief that he was. Even before the battle of London it didn't matter if he was damaged to a point that no heart beat within his chest, or that blood didn't flow through his veins. Being pulped into nothing more than a puddle of goo was really only a minor inconvenience. He was strong enough, old enough, that as long as a handful of cells remained 'alive', powered by the demonic contract that made him into a Nosferatu, he could pull himself back into a 'human' form through the power of his will. Now, due to the power he consumed from Schrödinger, Alucard had truly become the embodiment of the phrase “I think, therefore I am”. Like the seals that graced the backs of his gloved hands this was both binding and freeing. Alucard was unsure if the Warrant Officer had ever realized the full extent of his abilities, as a creature of mere thought one was only limited by what one could imagine, and the Count was very well versed in using his mind to influence himself and his surroundings. Yet, even with his experience, it had taken weeks after his return for Alucard to feel stable enough to start pushing the boundaries of his new power. Only then did he start to work on shaping his thoughts in ways that approximated his old abilities. True, with his new nature to be everywhere and nowhere Alucard had no need to become a cloud of bats, horde of rats, billowing mist, blanket of centipedes, or creeping liquid shadows, but he had come to enjoy the sensation of swooping and wheeling through the air, feeling the ground flow under a wave of tiny feet, or seeping through cracks and crevasses to surround his prey, feeding off of the scent of fear, the taste of adrenaline and sweat on the air, thriving on the tumultuous rush of emotion he could engender through those forms almost as much as the blood of his victims.

There was one power that the Warrant Officer had that Alucard had no prior experience with. The ability to be 'everywhere and nowhere' was at first terribly distracting. Now with first hand experience he could see that this ability was the most probable cause for the Warrant Officer’s ‘flakey’ attitude. It was definitely something Alucard had to work on, learning to shift and split the focus of his attention to cover multiple locations at once. In the beginning of his mastery, he’d found that there was a definite limit to this ability. There was only so much he could pay attention to simultaneously, beyond a general awareness of being. It wasn’t easy to canvass London, keep an eye on Integra and assist with Hellsing Operations in Europe, Asia, Africa and the Americas at the same time. Alucard found that he was easily distracted if he tried to spread his thoughts over too broad of an area, and it was such a bother to be brought back to attention with a bullet through his skull. A brief tooth filled grin crossed his face, it had been so long since he’d had anything that required him to focus or train that the challenge was quite invigorating. However, with a bit of practice it became easy for him to harness the ability to be 'present' in more than one place at the same time, and he took much pleasure in always remaining 'physically' at his Countess' side even while he was fulfilling her orders to “Search and Destroy”. It had taken Integra a while to get used to this, her raised voice echoing through the mansion as she berated the crimson menace for his apparent disobedience and sloth. Only to be answered by Alucard's rolling laughter as he faded from sight. Yet just because he remained hidden from her sight, did not mean that he left her side. What he learned from his continuous observation served to fill him with a level of anxiety he had not experienced since early in his service under Abraham, when they both had much to learn about each other and the limits of the blood contract between them. He learned that Integra fully intended to allow the Hellsing Organization to pass from the Hellsing Family's control, into that of the Round Table Knights at the time of her passing. What she seemed to forget was that his Contract could not be held by a committee, it had to be sealed to a single bloodline, represented by a single person, a single Master. With his continued observation he could only sneer at the current generation of Knights, he could find no evidence of any of them having the strength of will, determination and spirit required.

Then there was the other part, even if he could find someone with the strength and ability to control him, getting them to agree to the duty of being “Master of Monster” and follow through with it would be almost impossible. Society had changed, people had changed in ways that both made them tougher and softer than their predecessors. The “civilized” men of this time would easily battle with words and give their backing to causes of justice. They might even go to war if they felt strongly for a particular cause. However, advances in technology since his youth had made war impersonal. Today, modern guns and missiles were powerful enough that a soldier could kill their enemy from miles away, never seeing the color of their uniforms, let alone their faces. He was of a different age, from a time when warriors would fight face to face with their enemy, barring their teeth and roaring battlecries across the fields of conflict, with the blood and gore of their enemy on their hands, coating their armor and skin, their noses filled with the scent of offal, smoke and death.

When he and Abraham had first collaborated to create the Contract, Hellsing had searched for the most effective and least painful ways to perform the rituals that created the seals. After months and years of research and trials they had come to the realization that to bind a Monster like the Count the methods had to be harsh. So harsh that they had often turned Hellsing's stomach and Abraham was well acquainted with the stench of death, the vivisection of animals for science, and the dissection of well ripened corpses in the pursuit of medical knowledge. The brutality required by the spells which bound him; the ritualized spilling of blood, the infliction of pain to evoke the proper emotions, the torture to wear down his will, all spun together though arcane symbols and words of power were what created the Contract, an agreement between 'servant' and 'master' that couldn't simply be transferred like the ownership of land, or the leadership of a company. Integra's death would break the Contract, disintegrating the sigils he bore on the back of his hands, unraveling the bonds of magic and blood, bonds a new Master would have to reforge through fire, pain, power and blood. A part of him bemoaned the death of Father Anderson, as much as he'd clashed with the Papist Regenerator, Alexander Anderson would have been capable of reforging the Contract that bound him.

In the back of his mind Alucard wondered if Abraham had ever considered the possibility of his family ever dwindling to a single member without issue. It was with these thoughts on his mind that Alucard found himself drawn to a portion of the cellars under the mansion he'd not visited since his earliest times here. It was here that Abraham had dug out the rooms and labs where first he, then the scientists he'd hired, had discovered and refined their knowledge of the undead, and how best to subdue, restrain, and destroy them. Here were stored the records and texts holding Abraham's darkest secrets, and some of Alucard's most painful memories. It was here, in a long forgotten corner, that Alucard finally found the iron bound cedar chest that held the tools, notes and complete instructions that would allow someone to forge a new Contract and become “Master of Monster”.

It took Alucard placing the chest in the middle of Integra's desk, on top of all her paperwork, every day for a week for her to even concede that he had a valid concern, and multiple readings of the notes and the instructions for the ritual for Integra to fully grasp the implications of what it would mean for her to pass without a designated successor, ready and able to perform the act of reforging the bonds of the contract. Unleashed and without restriction, Alucard had the ability to devastate most of Europe within a month, with the rest of the world falling within a year, tops, but what terrified her more than that was the realization that the Contract was what kept him even nominally sane. Due to his nature, the demonic origin of his immortality, how he fed, and how consuming the souls of his victims increased his power, the Count teetered on the edge of insanity, his mind ever filled with the voices of the dead. It was the Contract that anchored him to the present while placing limits on his actions, allowing him to ignore the whispering between his ears that tempted him into acting on his oft times violent and vicious thoughts. For while the Count had damned himself to the undead life of a vampire in a last ditch effort to save his country and people from the advances of the Ottoman Turks, once he had extracted his revenge he had spent hundreds of years using his powers to defend his chosen people by devouring those who would disrupt the peace. Souls of men that were corrupt with urges to inflict pain on the weak and helpless, beasts who took pleasure from the torture of innocents, and in the service of Hellsing, thousands of vampires and other dark creatures who would harm humankind. Now with the addition of Schrödinger's powers the Contract had become even more vital, it had taken Alucard thirty years to subsume and dominate the souls he'd consumed from the dead at the Fall of London and not allow them to overrun his identity. Without the Contract providing an anchor and focus for his will Alucard would be a ticking bomb apt to wipe out cities with a single whimsical fancy.

Sir Integra also saw the same problem that Alucard had picked up on when she began to consider who would be the successor as Master of Monster, none of the current crop of Round Table Knights held the kind of spark that showed that they were capable of performing the ritual to enact a new Contract and successfully bind the Count. Years of relative peace since what the world was now calling the Zeppelin Affair just didn't provide the proving grounds to create the kind of person who would see a task through even when it became highly distasteful and soul scarring. Integra kept finding her mind drifting to the people she thought of as employees and companions and considering their suitability, while Seras Victoria was still in her employ and had the strength of character, the draculina was certainly not a suitable candidate as she was Alucard's Childe. Integra smiled to herself as she considered Pip Bernadotte, the mercenary would have been an excellent choice if he'd survived and not become Seras' first thrall. The current captain of the Hellsing forces, while highly skilled and exceedingly competent in leading her men, was a career military man who was already mentioning retirement and looking to groom one of the up and coming officers as his own successor.

Integra looked down at the notebooks before her, this was an incredible cock up in her mind, she doubted that her father or even her grandfather had held any idea just what it could mean if no one took up Alucard’s contract. She certainly hadn’t known before the Crimson Menace had repeatedly dumped the box on her desk and forced her to read and understand. A part of her cursed her ancestor for saddling his line with the ‘care and feeding’ of such a Monster, for that was really the only word to describe Alucard. He was a powerful entity that could bring about terror the likes of which would put the writers of the Old Testament into fits of giddy joy, a true fire and brimstone Fiend. Before the Battle of London she had known that he was powerful, functionally immortal with the experimentation her ancestors had subjected Alucard to and all of the souls he’d consumed. It was at the Battle that the sheer scope of his abilities had been put on display. He had literally bathed the streets of London with blood, pulling up rank upon rank of shades and thralls to battle for him against the forces of the Millennium Nazi, the Vatican’s Iscariot Division and the 9th Crusade. At the end of the battle, it wasn’t his wounds that had taken him out of action, it was the consumption of a single soul, one with a power she couldn’t hope to understand. She wasn't sure about the full impact on his consumption of Warrant Officer Schrödinger’s power, she doubted that even Alucard knew the full extent of what that annoying little boy could do. It really didn’t make all that much difference if Integra understood how the ability to be ‘everywhere and nowhere’ worked. What it meant for her was that the Contract was now even more essential to helping Alucard remain sane, it was his anchor in the tossing sea of his mind, letting him connect to the here and now. Integra had become his fixed point, a lighthouse to guide him when he wandered either in his mind, or out in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little writing tidbit - This entire story was sparked by the line "His Countess was dying."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry establishes himself as Lord Evans with Gringotts, following the recommendation of Death.

It was early morning the day after the Anniversary of the Zeppelin Affair when Harry arrived at Diagon Alley. He preferred getting his business and shopping done as the shops opened to avoid the crush of later day shoppers, especially since it was approaching the start date for the summer holidays at Hogwarts. Harry headed to the bank first, dealing with the Goblins first always seemed to make the day go better since he could let go of any frustrations before returning home. Although these days his relationship with Gringotts was quite favorable, some of his interactions with the bank as Harry Potter still haunted him. So much trouble had been caused by Harry just not knowing anything about the Wizarding World before his eleventh birthday it was surprising that things hadn’t turned out worse. The sudden discovery of his fame had done him no favors as everyone assumed that he’d learned the proper behaviors and forms and was willfully disregarding them as Hagrid had dragged him about during his first day. Then there was the business at the end of the second Wizarding War when Harry, Hermione, and Ron had robbed the Lestrange’s vault to recover the cup of Helga Hufflepuff. The Goblin Horde had certainly claimed their ‘pound of flesh’ for that incident, only ceasing to claim punitive fines and ‘damage’ fees when Harry managed to prove that as Lord Black he held the authority to recover the dowery given at Bellatrix’s marriage to her husband due to breach of contract since she never bore any children. Before his ‘death’ as Harry Potter, relations with the Goblins of Gringotts had eased to an icy détente, and Harry’s transactions were few and far between. The few times Harry had braved walking through the doors of the tall marble edifice, in the twenty years before his ‘death’, his stays were restricted to the lobby, any necessary business was delivered with brutal efficiency where both parties were double checking every fact and figure to maintain the peace.

It had been with much trepidation that Harry approached Gringotts for the first time as James Harris Evans under the direction of Death to have his accounts checked and his inheritances tested. Looking up at the unchanging bright white marble that caught the early morning light, the alert guards posted by the bronze doors who scrutinized each customer as they approached the steps, Harry remembered that visit.

\--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--Flashback--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--

Harry looked up at the front of Gringotts that loomed over the shoppers in Diagon Alley. Twenty five years had passed since he’d climbed the stairs and crossed the threshold of the bank free of the scowls and distain of the Goblins who ran it. At the end of the second war with Voldemort Harry’s accounts had been heavily fined and he’d been banned from the premises. Yet the Goblins’ actions had stopped short of forcing Harry to close his accounts completely. Once the dust settled and the dead were buried the Potter accounts swelled with bequests and monies distributed from the vaults of the defeated Death Eaters, and the Goblins knew that if Harry took his vaults elsewhere it could cause a collapse of the Wizarding economy in England. After a time they granted Harry a ‘probationary’ status which allowed him to enter the bank and do business in the lobby, but restricted his withdrawals to a meager percentage of his liquid assets and denied him access to his vaults and properties while maintaining them ‘in trust’ for his heirs to claim in the future.

Even with the fines and limitations imposed by the Goblins, the size of the Potter estate had allowed Harry to move enough money to the Mundane World to provide for his education, housing and expenses with plenty left over should he discover new interests. It was certainly enough for Harry to use while he earned his degree in Business Management, learned the ins and outs of capital investing, cut his teeth on the various stock and trade markets, and become successful. Now, as he once again walked through the heavy bronze and silver doors his eyes were drawn to the brief poem warning would be thieves of the Goblins’ wrath. He stepped into the cool expanse of the lobby and waited patiently for an available teller, figuring that his best approach would be to ask for an appointment to set up a new account and request an inheritance test during the transaction to see if he had access to any other vaults. In order to set up a new vault Harry brought a locked case containing fifteen thousand pounds in cash that was hand cuffed to his wrist as seed money to be converted to galleons and pay for any fees generated from opening the account. Approaching the counter as he was called forward Harry glanced at the name plaque before speaking, “Good Morning Teller Rockjaw, my name is James Harris Evans and I would like to speak with someone about opening a new account.”

The Goblin behind the counter looked at Harry for a moment before using a quill to write a note that was passed to another, smaller, goblin who walked off to a door marked “Employees Only”. Teller Rockjaw then spoke, “Someone will be with you shortly, please take a seat in the waiting area.”

“Thank you, Teller Rockjaw, may your books balance in your favor today.” Harry replied before moving to the waiting area set at the far end of the lobby. He settled onto one of the wooden benches provided and took out a copy of the London Financial Times, a small legal pad and a pencil from an outside pocket on his case, settling in for what he knew could be a long wait. Harry read through several articles, making notes on a couple of companies he felt worth researching further, and a few where he saw a trend that could require adjustments to his investments in the Mundane World over the next few days. Harry also kept an eye on what was going on around him as it would be rude to ignore the arrival of an escort when he had requested a meeting. When he saw an Goblin approaching and making eye contact he slipped his paperwork back into his case and stood.

“Mr. Evans, Account Manager Forgehand will see you now. Please follow me,” the Goblin directed before leading Harry to a hall next to where the bank patrons were escorted to the carts that took them down to the vaults. They walked past several doors before arriving at one bearing a nameplate for “Account Managers Forgehand, Gemstrike, and Bloomgold.” Harry felt an eyebrow rise, apparently the account manager he would be working with today did not rank high enough to warrant their own office, which had him hoping that Forgehand was young and working their way up, rather than old and nearing retirement. Harry’s guide knocked, waited for a response and opened the door. Gesturing for Harry to enter he announced, “Mr. James Harris Evans to see Account Manager Forgehand.”

Entering the office Harry found three desks occupied by Goblins, two were decidedly younger than the third and Harry felt a tremor of dread as the oldest raised a claw to offer the visitor chair at his desk. Harry took the seat as the Goblin spoke, “So Mr. Evans, how may Gringotts be of service today?”

“I am interested in opening an account with Gringotts to protect and diversify my earnings from several investment portfolios I hold in the Mundane World. I am finding that the banking laws there only insure accounts up to eighty five thousand pounds which I have surpassed on several accounts. My associates in the Wizarding World recommended setting up a vault and account here as they tell me that Gringotts will insure any amount.”

“We may certainly help with that. Gringotts offers many options for new account owners. For our clients who appear to have some amount of financial acumen, such as yourself, we offer several packages at competitive rates in cooperation with both Wizarding and Mundane institutions. Any liquid deposits to your account are held in the physical form of galleons, sickles, and knuts in one of our vaults. Deposits of physical goods or documents may be limited by the available room in your vault.” Forgehand explained as he offered several pages of parchment and brochures detailing their various packages and options, as well as a price list that covered the offerings.

Harry took his time going through all of the paperwork, not hesitating to ask Forgehand for additional clarification on anything he didn’t understand, or to put forward demands where he found the terms of an offer overly biased in favor of the Goblin Horde. Throughout the negotiations Harry remained calm, backing his arguments with mathematical proofs wherever possible. As the clocks showed noon Forgehand suggested a break for refreshment as they had reached a point where they had a rough agreement on the table. Harry agreed as his stomach rumbled informing him of just how long it had been since breakfast. Planning to reconvene in an hour Forgehand escorted them all from the office, locking it behind him, “Meet me in the lobby in one hour and we’ll see if we can’t polish that up and get it approved today.”

“Approved?” Harry asked.

“Aye, that contract we’ve been working on has moved quite a ways apart from our standard account agreement for new depositors.” Forgehand explained while Gemstrike and Bloomgold nodded.

Harry spluttered, “But... It’s better, more secure... With benefits for both parties...”

Forgehand’s face broke into a toothy smile, “Quite right! Which is why it should get approval today if I have any say in the matter. You have good ideas and a strong grasp of finance so rarely found outside the Horde. Also you are capable of explaining your ideas and knowledge in a manner that is engaging and easy to grasp, not many have that skill. I’ve been in this business for a long time and today I learned that I still have much to learn about banking and finance! It’s very exciting.”

“I am glad that I could bring my knowledge to you today.” Harry replied with his own smile.

“Right! Now go and refresh yourself. I’ll see you in an hour to see how much more we can make those numbers sing and dance. I’ve a feeling that what we’re doing today will be talked about by the clans for years to come.” Forgehand finished as he shooed Harry out into the lobby.

Harry left the confines of the bank with his case still locked to his wrist. They’d spent all morning going over the language and terms of the account contract they were designing, getting so involved that Harry never considered opening the case. Honestly it was a good thing, no commitments had been made by either side and while Gringotts may operate under the creed of ‘time is money’ it appeared that Forgehand also appreciated opportunities that held the promise of high returns at a future date. Not wanting to be late for the afternoon session Harry stopped at the first cafe he came to and ordered a lunch special. He quickly tucked in when it arrived, finished, paid and was back at Gringotts with ten minutes to spare. Forgehand had a very pleased look in his eye as he found Harry waiting as he returned from his lunch. Leading the way back to the office Forgehand unlocked the door and welcomed him in. Over the course of several more hours they added details to the proposed contract. When they were both satisfied Forgehand created a copy and sent it off with Bloomgold to the Assistant Director of Accounts for approval. As they waited Forgehand offered tea and pulled out a tin of homemade treacle biscuits.

Approximately twenty minutes later the office door was thrown open allowing a richly dressed Goblin to storm in. Forgehand and Gemstrike quickly stood and bowed to the newcomer, with Harry following their lead a moment later.

“Forgehand! Are you responsible for this!” the Goblin boomed as he shook the copy of the contract they had been working all day on.

“Yes sir.” Forgehand answered quickly, “Mr. Evans is a new client who has financial training from the Mundane World. He is very well educated and willingly shared his insight and knowledge. I believe you’ll find that contract will serve both the interests of Gringotts and our client.”

“I see,” the Goblin rumbled as his eyes flicked over the page. “Yes, I see that now. Very well, I’ll approve this contract on a trial basis. It will be reviewed in six months. If Mr. Evans’ account reflects earnings within, or above, the projected range of returns that you’ve specified then I’ll forward a recommendation to the Director to include this scheme as an option for our clients.”

Harry watched as Forgehand’s eyes grew round with surprise at the new Goblin’s words, “Thank you sir! You won’t be disappointed.”

“Time will tell, Forgehand.” The Goblin replied before turning to face Harry, “May good fortune smile on your endeavors Mr. Evans.”

“Thank you sir, may your gold ever increase.” Harry replied.

The Goblin gave a grin and flicked the copy of the contract he held with a claw, “If this works as well as you’ve projected then I’ve little doubt of that!” he finished as he exited the office, nearly bowling over Bloomgold who had been hovering in the doorway waiting to return to his desk. Harry turned to Forgehand with clear questions in his eyes. Forgehand reclaimed his seat and took a sip of tea before speaking.

“That was Assistant Director Stonefist. As you’ve probably guessed he’s approved the contract for your account. So, how much do you plan on depositing today to open your account?”

Harry lifted the case he carried to the desktop and took out a key to undo the locks. “I have fifteen thousand pounds to open my account, and I would like to know which Mundane banks Gringotts is associated with so I may set up future transfers. I felt rather uncomfortable walking out in public carrying this much cash.”

“Understandable, few Wizards would come to Diagon with three thousand Galleons in their purse.” Forgehand agreed, “Let’s get your vault set up and Gemstrike can put together the information about making direct deposits and wire transfers through our Mundane partners.”

Harry was assigned vault 3090, issued a key and a folder that included a primary statement for the account, setting up direct deposits and a handful of cheques. Forgehand also told Harry how he could use the imprint of his vault key to make purchases in Diagon Alley and other Wizarding shopping areas. Once that was all taken care of Forgehand asked, “Is there anything else Gringotts may do for you today?”

“Yes, there is. Now that we are agreed on how Gringotts will be handling my vault I would like to have an inheritance test run to see if there are any additional vaults under my control, which could be impacted by our contract.” Harry said with a grin.

“Oh ho! Clever, very clever Mr. Evans! There ought to be Goblin blood in your veins! Well played sir, by signing that contract before having an inheritance test done it will mean that any accounts discovered shall fall under the terms of the contract.”

“Indeed, and depending on what we find it has the potential to shake the dust out of some old accounts and get those funds working again. Which means profit for everyone.”  
Forgehand narrowed his eyes, “Do you have some idea about what the test will reveal?”

Harry shook his head, “No, only that one of my associates recommended having it done saying how some families and lines were lost to the Mundane world during the last two Wizarding conflicts.”

“You have a shrewd associate Mr. Evans.” Forgehand acknowledged, “An inheritance test is available for a fee of ten Galleons. It will show all accounts you are eligible to inherit, also any active contracts or agreements associated with those accounts. Once the test is done you will be responsible for fulfilling the terms and requirements of any active binding contracts or agreements found to be part of your inheritance. Do you understand this requirement?”

“I understand and agree to those terms.”

“Very good,” Forgehand said with a nod, “Gemstrike, go and collect the potions required for an inheritance test. Bloomgold, we’ll need an inheritance kit from storage.”

Once the younger Goblins left Harry decided to ask a question that had been preying on his mind since he’d come into the office, “Forgehand, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but do Gemstrike and Bloomgold ever see separate clients?”

“Caught that did ya,” Forgehand answered in an almost casual drawl. “Those two are currently Journeymen. They’ll work under my guidance until they’re qualified to take on their own accounts.”

“So, you’re their teacher?”

“I’ve been taking on apprentices for over a hundred years,” Forgehand said proudly. “Not all Goblins have the ability or patients to guide and nurture the next generation while also dealing with the oft times abrasive nature of Goblin Wizard relations. I’m pleased to say that the majority of my apprentices have gone on to highly successful careers, earning positions with many high profile Wizarding families and bringing a constant profit to the Horde.”

Harry nodded, it was what he’d expect from a society that had moved its warrior ways from the battlefield to the boardrooms of finance.

It wasn’t long before Gemstrike and Bloomgold returned with the supplies needed for the Inheritance test. Harry felt a curl of unease as Forgehand set up the potions, parchment and enchanted pen. Even with Death assuring him that everything was set for him to recover the Potter vaults he still had questions about what else the test could find. At the last accounting Harry requested, those vaults held enough wealth to easily cover his expenses for over a hundred years without the addition of a Knut. However, Harry wasn’t one to stay idle, and it grated on his nerves to let his finances sit fallow. So, just like how he dealt with his accounts in the Mundane world, he had plans to invest and make his fortune grow. He only had to convince Forgehand that his plans would work, once he proved that he had access to those vaults.

“Very good. Now Mr. Evans we just need seven drops of your blood added to his potion and the enchanted pen will transcribe the results on the parchment.”

Using the knife provided in the inheritance kit Harry nicked his finger and allowed seven drops of blood to fall into the potion, which swirled and shifted color from a milky white to a deep royal purple. When the potion settled and the color was consistent Forgehand touched the nib of the pen to the potion. The pen trembled and absorbed the potion to the last drop. Forgehand then placed the pen at the top of the sheet of parchment and released it. Soon the air was filled with the sound of the nib skritching over the parchment as the pen danced across the page. When it finally came to rest the parchment was filled with cramped writing, and the corners were adorned with a skull and bone motif. Forgehand took a look at the page and blinked, paling rapidly at the information it held. Holding out his hand expectantly Harry accepted the parchment from the stunned Goblin and began to read.

_Inheritance test results of Lord James Harris Peverell Evans (Lord Evans) made this day, October 10, 2025 at Gringotts’ London Branch. Witnessed by Account Manager Forgehand, Senior Journeyman Gemstrike, and Junior Journeyman Bloomgold. Let it be known that Lord Evans is the rightful Lord and Heir to the following Lines and Estates by Magic, Blood, Bequest, or Conquest._

The list that followed took up most of the page, essentially enumerating the Lines and Estates Harry once inherited as Harry Potter and added several from the supporters of Voldemort. Most were absorbed under the Peverell Lordship due to seniority. Surprisingly the Evans name came with its own share of prestige adding a fair number of vaults and properties to the resulting massive portfolio. Letting his eyes scan down the page Harry came to an abrupt halt as at the bottom of the page he read the following.

_Be it also known and declared that Lord Evans has successfully fulfilled the requirements of Magic to be named Master of Death until such time as Magic appoints Lord Evans’ successor._

Raising his eyes Harry looked at Forgehand and the other Goblins to see them watching him with wide eyes. He took a slow breath and let it out in a sigh. “Forgehand, all of these titles and things hold very little meaning to me. Yes, I can manage the lands and monies that come with knowing my full inheritance, however, I’ve never felt ‘entitled’ by wealth and I’ve never agreed with the idea that just because someone was wealthy that they have a right to ‘lord’ it over others or to demand respect before it is earned. To me wealth offers opportunities to aid those less fortunate. I did not grow up with wealth. Hell, I didn’t even know I was a Wizard before my eleventh birthday. The people who raised me were very proud to be completely Mundane. Anything unusual was ‘abnormal’ and not to be tolerated. As you can imagine it was not a very supportive childhood. With this windfall I’d like to see what I can do to improve the lives of those in need, both in the magical and mundane world.”

Forgehand blinked, “You want to open poor houses?”

“No, this is something where the Wizarding World needs to look to the Mundane World for guidance. There are no more ‘poor houses’ in London, instead there are programs that encourage people to help themselves. Yes, in some cases the aid provided can include housing, food, clothing, or money, but behind those material things are services that help people find work, assist with healthcare, improve their education, support families, encourage financial responsibility, improve housing options, and teach skills.” Harry explained. “In the Mundane World while these programs do take considerable initial investment the overall returns... are difficult to calculate. How do you put a value on getting a family out of a hovel and into a situation where they can support themselves and become valued members of a healthy community? How do you put a value on keeping people from living on the streets, begging for food, or spare change, when providing a roof over their heads and healing for injuries and sickness, could allow them to gain an education and become part of the workforce?”

Forgehand nodded, having grabbed a quill and parchment to make notes on what Harry was saying. He furrowed his brow for a moment and spoke, “Since this would be a new venture in the Wizarding World, would you be open to working with Gringotts to set this plan in motion?”

“I am not opposed to working with Gringotts on this. Although I feel at this point we need to educate ourselves on the approaches and tactics used in the Mundane World to see what may translate as the most effective methods for the Wizarding World.”

“I agree, these are radical ideas Lord Evans, but I can also see an opportunity for my apprentices to gain skills by assisting you with the necessary research to set up this new venture, which is a rare opportunity for them. I won’t go so far as to say that most Wizarding businesses are hidebound, but there are few new stores opening on the Alley these days and those that do are all following established trends.”

Harry nodded contemplatively, “I can see that. So, since this is a radical concept, shall we meet again in two weeks for a preliminary overview?”

“For this, yes that is acceptable. For the rest of your portfolio, do you have any preferences, or would you like time to go through the files on you holdings?”

Harry lifted the case attached to his wrist, “At the very least I’d like to finish the business I came in for today. Would it be possible to combine some of the smaller holdings that were discovered through the inheritance test with the account I opened today? I don’t feel it would be appropriate for the entire estate to fall under the trial contract immediately, so let’s cap the initial deposit to that account at fifty thousand Galleons. I would like a chance to go over the paperwork for the rest before making any decisions. I don’t want to put all of my ‘eggs’ in the same basket. Having separate accounts for investing into different ventures can help keep the bookkeeping simpler when we start planning the start up of some of those philanthropic projects. The Mundane World uses the idea of ‘limited liability corporations’ to protect investors, so if a venture fails it does not automatically bankrupt the person or persons who start new businesses. That security often leads to more people being willing to go into business and a growth of the economy.”

“So, you mean that in the Mundane World the owner of a business has the option of separating the money involved in running their business from their personal accounts?” Forgehand asked.

“Precisely, and should a business set up this way fail, the owner’s personal accounts are protected from seizure by creditors or outstanding expenses. This allows the owner to recover from their failure, learn from their mistakes and hopefully begin a new successful venture.”

Forgehand took several minutes to think, then gave a slow nod, “Another topic worthy of researching for my apprentices. However, for now let’s get your new vault set up so we can both enjoy what is left of the day.”

With that the rest of Harry’s immediate business was quickly wrapped up and he emerged from the bank into the cool evening as people finished their day and stopped by the Alley to shop or grab a bite to eat before going home for the night. 

\--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--End Flashback--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--

That first meeting with Forgehand had spurred several months of meetings and negotiations as Harry and the three Goblins worked to implement Harry’s philanthropic visions and prove to Gringotts that his ideas were good for business. Now, five years later, most of the kinks had been worked out and the work they had done was turning very profitable. Both Gemstrike and Bloomgold had become full Account Managers and were employed full time on Lord Evans’ accounts. Forgehand had taken on two new Journeymen and conversed regularly with Harry about finance, banking and investments in the Mundane World that might translate well into the Wizarding World.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not have any type of business degree and math is not my strong point, however the concepts mentioned here are pretty basic, so I don't believe I've stretched reality too far...


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Integra continues to mull over the problem of finding Alucard a new "Master".

While Alucard’s continued training with his new powers drove the inhabitants of the Manor spare for days on end, Sir Integra chewed over the problem of the need for a successor to take up the Blood Contract with Alucard. Once more she combed through the libraries and personal papers of her ancestors in an attempt to learn more about the mechanics behind the Contract and the exact qualifications needed by it to become the next Master of Monster. By the end of a month’s research, Integra had gained an understanding of the arcane held by few outside of active practitioners of ritual magic. She had an increased appreciation for Abraham Van Hellsing’s mad genius, and deeply conflicted feelings about what had been done to Alucard in the past, and what now needed to be done. When Abraham had subdued the Count the vampire was already known as Vlad the Impaler, Scourge of Europe, an entity who held unofficial control of the regions surrounding his keep in the region of Transylvania for over four hundred years. Then he served under the Hellsings for an additional hundred and thirty years as their ‘big gun’, their foremost enforcer tasked with neutralizing the worst of Hellsing’s opponents. With the Contract back on her mind Integra gained a revelation, while she always held her duty to Queen and Country as her highest calling, she had an equally high calling as Master of Monster and in some ways that was even more demanding. Because she was a Hellsing, she had been charged by her ancestors with the duty of safekeeping the human race from the depredations of Count Vlad Tepes, and now without any children to her name to keep the terms of the Contract it fell to her to discover and vet a suitable successor. She was thankful that, according to the notes written by Abraham and Alucard, she was not restricted to renewing the contract with someone related to her by blood. If that had been the case she would have had very little chance of success, and all of the Hellsing organization would be focused on finding some by-blow heir from some remote uncle or cousin. Sighing she took off her glasses and rubbed her eye, in the past this would have been a point where she would have enjoyed lighting up a cigarillo and savor the calming smoke, now she had to make due with cups of herbal tea. She didn’t blame Alucard for the results of her own bad habits, tempting though it was, and she couldn’t blame Seras, who while powerful, was still young. The young draculina didn’t have the experience to recognize the presence of early stage cancer in a single drop of blood. 

In a way it was a blessing that her illness had been caught early, as it gave Integra more than a few months to try to find a worthy successor. However, it didn’t help that just about every candidate Integra thought of was quickly disqualified due to factors like age, health, ability, will, and personal commitments. She couldn’t trust just anyone, while it was tempting to look into her military contacts to find someone suitable, after reading through the the notes about the creation of the contract and having lived as Master of Monster she knew that to treat Alucard as simply a tool was a great disservice. Without a doubt the vampire drove her to distraction with a plethora of annoying habits and mannerisms, pushing the limits of the Contract on an almost daily basis. Alucard was an intelligent and passionate being all wrapped up in someone who was a striking example of ethereal beauty, manly power, a lecherous peeping tom, an unapologetic flirt, a hedonistic pleasure seeker, a darkly masochistic adrenaline junky, a sometimes cruel prankster, a ruler of men, and at times a devoted friend. He named her his ‘Countess’, a title he had not bestowed on anyone after the loss of his first wife and his transformation into a true Nosferatu in the defense of his homeland. Integra could not discount such a show of trust from him, she doubted that any of the last several generations of Hellsings had gained such close connection to their Monster as what she now held. From their very first meeting she had trusted her instincts and let them guide her in how to deal with Alucard, never forgetting that while he was a monster now, at one point he had been human. It was because of this that Integra was determined to find someone who would treat the Count with honor, respect and friendship, while still being able to stand up to his oft times forceful and demanding personality.

As the months passed and her search continued to turn up potential candidates who then failed to pass her stringent requirements Integra began to despair that she would be successful, so she began to prepare her troops for the possibility that they would be required to defend the World against the threat of Alucard unleashed. The breaking of the Contract would be a shock to his system, so Integra held no illusions that, were she to order his peaceful obedience on her deathbed, he would be in any position to follow her orders. From the notebooks on the Contract the energy backlash of breaking the bonds would drive Alucard insane for a period of time, possibly until a new Contract was forged, unless a new Master was chosen and the transfer started before she died.

With her pool of candidates growing decidedly shallow Integra wrote a letter he was hoping to never compose, she clearly explained her concerns and begging the recipient’s favor she asked the Crown for assistance in her search. Integra had considered this as a route of last resort, as she was reluctant to tie the Royal Family to the Monster. She knew if any of the Crown’s family took up the Contract it would put too much power behind the throne. Alucard was justifiably a weapon of mass destruction, the other nations of the world would vociferously object to England having access to an entity who could go anywhere and kill anyone with merely a thought, security be damned. No, it was much better if Alucard remained outside of the influence of the Royal Family, Parliament, the Military, or the Secret Service. He needed to remain a secret to be called on in times of need, not something out in the open to be pursued by paparazzi. Integra cringed as her mind imagined the potential fallout from the first time Alucard was confronted by hordes of photographers... It would be a bloodbath. Since the time the Contract had been forged the Hellsings had served the Crown, policing the darkness and keeping England’s citizens safe from nightmares and creatures of hell that the general public should never have to believe in. It was the shared history, morality and integrity of the Hellsings that allowed the Crown to trust that they could keep Alucard under nominal control while defending the populace from other supernatural dangers. Now it was this history that lead Integra to appeal to her Sovereign, hoping that it would open up new avenues of opportunity in her hunt for a suitable successor. Any candidates would have to show a verifiable morality and devotion to serve, wanting little to no recognition for often dangerous and dark duties, working from the shadows to keep humanity safe. It was with this in mind that Integra considered just what had made her such a successful Master of Monster. The strength of the moral code she had been taught and her devotion to the duty had shaped everything in her life. These qualities were what let her sleep after a mission that saw the death of both her men and innocent civilians, what caused Integra to never mourn the death of her uncle at her hand upon the discovery of Alucard in the dungeons below the manor. When her uncle had seen Alucard move on that first day, Integra had seen the initial fear in his eyes rapidly change to lust. In that instant Integra knew that all her uncle had seen was Alucard as a weapon, a big gun to bring to the world’s knife fights, a power he would have corrupted by using the Monster for his own personal gain becoming a tyrant through threats and intimidation. Even without knowing about the Contract that bound the vampire to her family she had respected the raw, animalistic power represented by Alucard. Later she learned that one of the keys that held the Contract together when it was forged was an understanding on both sides that the power and abilities that Alucard wielded were best used for the defense of the innocent, even if the only defense was that the disease was wiped out, a surgical strike to remove a cancer that would run rampant if ignored.

A week passed and Integra was surprised to receive a return letter from the Crown. In it the Crown expressed Their shared concerns that having Alucard as a servant of the Royal Family was not a desired outcome. They agreed that it would focus too much power and attention on England, with little hope of Alucard’s existence remaining secret. However They did have several suggestions on places to look and several names of people who could point Integra in the direction of several possible candidates. It was the Crown’s letter that reminded Integra about the Wizarding World that lived secretly alongside England’s public. When she was a young girl her father had taught her about the existence of real magic and the fact that true witches and wizards could be found anywhere, if you knew how to look. He also taught her that while in the past there had been occasions where English Wizards and Hellsing had worked cooperatively, there were also occasions where they had been set as adversaries. Most recently Hellsing had been ordered by the Crown to put down a group of Wizarding terrorists that had been attacking members of the public indiscriminately. Integra’s father, Arthur, had determined that the terrorists were a menace, but not so threatening to the public that he would release Alucard from the dungeon cell to deal with it, and the Count had remained undisturbed, locked in his cell from the point of his incarceration in the early 1950’s.

Shortly after the end of World War II, Arthur Hellsing had entrapped Alucard below the Hellsing Manor and sealed that portion of the dungeons, promising himself that the Count would only be released to face the direst of threats to the Crown and public of England. For the rest of his life Arthur never saw fit to release Alucard, determining that the threats faced by the Hellsing Organization were capable of being faced through purely human means. What this meant was, beyond ensuring that the Contract remained active, Arthur Hellsing left the Count restrained and starving in the dark for over forty five years. Now, from what she’d read in Abraham’s notes about the Contract, Integra realized she had been incredibly lucky that Alucard had been reduced to the corpse-like state she’d found him in. If the Count had been stronger when her father had died, he would have broken free of his bindings and fallen into madness. As it was with her father’s long illness the bonds of the Contract had grown weak, and as she thought about it Integra realized that it was highly doubtful her Uncle’s blood would have been strong enough to bring Alucard to heel. No, it had been her blood, the blood of a virgin Hellsing that had made the reawakened Contract so strong between them. Perversely the stronger the bond of the Contract, the more power Alucard had to his discretion. Integra shivered at the thought of how different the Battle of London could have been if her Uncle had succeeded in his bid to lead the Hellsing Organization. Visions of the Nazi flag flying over Buckingham Palace while shambling hordes of Ghouls roamed the streets and countryside ran through her head at the thought. Giving her head a shake to clear it Integra returned to the Crown’s letter and recalled what she knew of Wizards. If she could find an acceptable successor from the Wizarding World it had the potential of becoming a long term solution to the problem. As she recalled Wizards tended to be long-lived, had strong interests in continuing family lines and were apparently immune to cancer. 

\--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--oo--

Looking at the paperwork left to pile in her inbox as she’d focused on the notes left by Abraham, Integra’s shoulders slumped. Her people were good, but the amount of administration it took to keep Hellsing operational left her with little time to herself, let alone time to go hunting Wizards who’d rather be left to themselves and lived in hidden enclaves protected by magic. Sitting back in her chair Integra steepled her hands in front of her mouth in contemplation, training was going well, things were reasonably quiet out in the world, Seras’ power was growing and on par with most of the current threats, and finally Alucard was showing definite signs of boredom that needed to be curbed before the Mansion, her troops, or Seras suffered irreparable harm. Catching a glint of blood red lurking in a nearby shadow, Integra flicked her fingers at a spot beside her desk as she spoke, “I’ve been considering the situation we find ourselves in and I agree that none of the current heirs to the Round Table are suitable candidates to take up your Contract. I’m also sure we agree that the Royal Family, while possessing the honor, integrity, and will to hold the Contract, ought to be disqualified due to their high public profiles and the sort of work you are best fit for. However, I have voiced my concerns to the Crown and their response has brought up a possible avenue I had forgotten.”

“And what may that be?” Alucard purred from where he had emerged from the shadows and now stood in all his crimson glory.

“Wizards,” Integra replied and waited.

Alucard’s head tipped to one side as he thought about it. He was not unfamiliar with the Magical World, even when he’d been human he’d known about witches, wizards, potion brewers, and alchemists. They existed in every country on Earth, and as the ruler of a nation he’d been educated on the basics of their abilities. There had even been a couple of wizards in his court, much to the consternation of the ambassadors from the church. Involving wizards in this matter was not a bad idea, once he’d given it some thought. Wizards normally had longer lifespans than non-magical people and, if he remembered correctly, with enough power and training a wizard or witch would be able to adjust the requirements of the Contract to make it easier to find a new “Master of Monster” should this situation reoccur. Seeing that Integra was waiting for a response, Alucard gave a shallow nod and spoke, “It would be possible for a Wizard or Witch to reforge the contract, while they are different from non-magicals they are still human.”

Alucard’s comment reminded Integra that ‘being human’ was a basic requirement of the Contract’s make up, although the definition of what could be considered human was vague. In the barest terms the Contract required its holder to be capable of human forms of communication, rational thought, measurable intelligence, and have blood that Alucard could consume. With those requirements it wouldn’t be possible for a robot, android or an artificial intelligence to hold the Contract, but a variety of magical and non-magical ‘creatures’ could hold it. Taking a sip of her tea, Integra gave Alucard a look, “Very well, I hereby order you to survey England’s Wizarding community for potential candidates to become ‘Master of Monster’. You are only authorized to gather information, and if absolutely necessary defend your candidates from danger. You will not harm anyone without sanction. I will meet and vet your candidates and I expect that when I do they will have a basic understanding of what is required. Should we find an appropriate candidate that person must understand, commit and agree of their own free will.”

“Of course, my Master. The Contract is not the only thing with that requirement.”

“Do not rush this my Count, I am well enough yet. Find someone who will have the strength and compassion that you need. Don’t settle on the first witch or wizard capable of taking up the Contract. Be thorough in your search before you make any decision. I would not have you under the command of anyone who considered you nothing more than a weapon.”

“Is that an order, my Master?”

“No Alucard, only a recommendation. Although many days it seems that you only exist to vex me, I do care about you.” Integra said with a wry grin, “I want to know that you’ll be well looked after once I’m gone, and part of that is making sure you’ll be satisfied with your choice.”

Alucard returned her grin, “Yes, my Master.” his low baritone rumbled as he faded from sight, his heart aching a bit more at Integra’s commitment to remain human. She had the potential to become a phenomenal draculina, but turning her wouldn’t save him from madness. At her death the Blood Contract would break and send him spiraling into insanity. Perhaps once he’d found a new Master, he’d be able to sway her resolve, but for now the chance was so remote it wasn’t worth contemplating.

Accepting Integra’s dismissal, and having new orders Alucard allowed his thoughts to drift over London, looking for the spark of eldritch energies that would indicate the use of magic. He was surprised to find a heavy saturation right in the heart of London, just off Charing Cross Road. Curious, Alucard spent some time observing the apparently hidden enclave invisibly. Although it was quite late in the evening the Count saw plenty of typical London activity, people visited pubs, a couple of theaters were just letting out, and surprisingly there were a handful of shops open for business. His curiosity piqued, Alucard manifested himself at one of the points he saw wizards arrive in the complex of narrow streets and alleys and proceeded to investigate on foot. It didn’t take long for the Count to discover that the ‘modern’ Wizarding World had at least some passing awareness of vampires and other denizens of the night. In fact it appeared that vampires and the like who resided in the Wizarding World did so with a ‘live and let live’ attitude. The few shops that were open, in what Alucard was quickly recognizing to be a shopping district, carried products that would appeal to and assist a vampire who desired to remain undetected while living among humans. Products like heavy-duty sunscreen, concealer, sun blocking clothes, portable coffins, trunks and cabinets with expanded interior space, supplies of potions purporting to ‘make a swallow into a full meal’ or add various flavors or textures to blood, almost made Alucard wish he’d brought some money with him. One of the shop keepers caught him staring at a display of ‘vampire approved treats’ and offered him a ‘blood pop’ even after Alucard admitted to having nothing to pay with. The man just shrugged and handed him the candy, encouraging him to try it. With a skeptical look Alucard unwrapped the sweet and took a taste, at his age should the candy turn out to be completely non-magical it wouldn’t make him ill, but he was pleasantly surprised at the flavor. While sweet it reminded him of a good mix of virgin’s blood and honey, definitely a treat to savor and he wondered if Seras would like them. Thanking the man behind the counter and planning on returning at some point when he had the funds to make a few purchases, Alucard left the shop to continue his stroll through the now mostly dark alleys.

The attack he’d been expecting happened as the Count walked down one of the side branching ways named ‘Knockturn Alley’. The store fronts here were decidedly shabby and Alucard was aware of the sizable population of thugs, muggers, cut throats, thieves and other trash that lurked in the deep shadows waiting for prey. If his attacker had been human, Alucard would have simply disabled him and left him for the local authorities, but his foe was a magical vampire. Alucard was actually somewhat amazed as the punk leapt at him from the crease between two buildings, the idiot clearly had no ability to judge the strength of their target. Easily seeing the trajectory of the attack, Alucard’s hand flashed out to close around the male’s throat, bringing the attacker to a sudden crashing halt. Holding the now flailing vampire at arm’s length, Alucard used his free hand to remove the now well cleaned stick of the blood pop from his mouth, flicking it away as he eyed the vampire over the top of his glasses.

“Not very smart are you. Didn’t your sire teach you how to judge your target? Or that it is generally a bad idea to attack someone stronger than yourself?” Alucard sneered as he made sure the foolish idiot could see his fangs. He gave the vampire a shake and relaxed his grip so that his captured prey could speak, but not so much that the punk vampire could escape.

“Unhand me you oaf! You know nothing! I am a Childe of Dracula himself!” the vampire hissed and ranted as he attempted to free himself from Alucard’s grip. The Count’s hand clenched as he registered on the punk’s words. His eyes flashed and his grin turned malicious as he pulled the little idiot closer. “A ‘Childe of Dracula’ you say?” Alucard purred, “Tell me then, where and when were you Turned? Surely one so proud of their pedigree as you obviously are will be willing to share their heritage?”

As he finished he dropped the vampire back to the ground, remaining on his guard, but wanting to know what the punk had to say for themselves. The vampire straightened the robes he was wearing, and cleared his throat, the imprints of Alucard’s fingers still evident in his flesh. Giving Alucard a haughty imperious look he spoke, “I am Levi Reilly Daugherty, Esquire. I was turned by my Lord Dracula at his Keep in Transylvania in the winter of 1928!”

Alucard blinked at the audacious upstart, “1928?” he began to chuckle, “Dracula was not in Transylvania in 1928. His keep had been left to the chiefs of the Romani in 1896 for use as a winter camp. If indeed you were Turned in 1928, then I guarantee you it was not Dracula who gave you this existence.”

“Oh? And just who are you to doubt me?” Levi said with a sneer.

Alucard tipped his head back and peered down his nose at the youngster before him, trying to decide if he should just give Levi a scare, or drain the punk for information. It had been years since he’d devoured anyone of magical blood. The last had been Warrant Officer Schrödinger, so Alucard was justifiably cautious. Integra would be less than pleased with him if she had to wait another thirty years for Alucard to master whatever powers this vampire had. Not that it would take him that long in this instance, but Alucard was loath to leave his Countess for even a day now that he’d returned to her side.

It was the impact of a bright red spell that set Alucard’s course of action. The flash of light and the sensation of a stinging slap that accompanied it turned his grin into a snarl as he quickly closed the distance between them and drew out Casull, aiming it at Levi’s head. “You are a bit of an idiot aren’t you.” Alucard hissed, “I’d almost decided to let you go, seeing as I don’t normally concern myself with what goes on in the Wizarding World, but you just had to issue a challenge.”

Levi retained his haughty attitude as he returned, “You Sir, have impugned my honor and denied my sire, of course I challenge you.”

Alucard raised an eyebrow at recognizing the phrase as an official call to a duel, and looked over the top of his glasses, “And where are your witnesses? Your Second? Or is this challenge to be naught, but an informal brawl?”

Levi raised his chin and gave a shrill whistle, at the sound several robed forms came out of the surrounding doorways. Looking them over Alucard saw a couple more young vampires, a handful of poorly dressed wizards and a ratty looking werewolf. Pointing at one of the vampires Levi spoke, “Lucas is my second, these others will serve as witnesses. Now what of yours, sir?”

“They shall arrive momentarily, I was unaware I would require their services tonight...” Alucard answered as he split his attention and manifested back at the Hellsing Manor to request the assistance of Integra and Seras. Sir Integra was less than pleased to be called away from the Manor, but she was also curious when Alucard requested that she serve as his Second in a duel, with Seras along to act as witness. Quickly gathering a long coat and relieved that today she’d chosen to dress in one of her more intimidating suits, Integra armed herself with her pistol and sword. Calling Seras to her side they used Seras’ power over shadow and flight to arrive on the scene in time to hear the vampire, who was pointing what could only be described as a wand at Alucard, ask, “Very well, then as we wait let’s have your name and pedigree. It’s only fair seeing as you know mine.”

Alucard’s toothy grin returned, “As you say, it is only fair. I am known today as Alucard, bound in service to the Hellsing Family and their Organization since 1897. Before that I held a keep on the Northwest border of what was once called Wallachia, in the district known today as Transylvania. The name I was given by my parents was Vlad the third, or Vlad Tepes. I was the middle son of my father, Vlad the second, also known as Vlad Dracul. I was never a good man, but I served justice in my own way, raised and educated to be a knight to defend Christendom from the Infidels who threatened our borders. Upon my final defeat against an overwhelming force of Ottoman Turks I fell to darkness, cursed by the very god I’d once praised to follow the path of the vampire in 1476. So Levi, I think I may know a bit more about your ‘Lord Dracula’ than you do.”

Integra stepped forward and spoke, “Alucard, what is the meaning of this? I sent you out to gather information, not start petty squabbles.”

“My apologies Master, I should have remembered and warned you that such a confrontation might be required to establish my credentials here. Forgive me, it has been a long time since I have dealt with wizards.” Alucard answered with a dip of his hat, not taking his eyes off Levi.

“Feh, let’s get this over with. I expect a full report to be on my desk by midnight tomorrow, understood?”

“Yes, my Master.”

Levi let out a raucous laugh, “You call this measly human ‘Master’? Humans are nothing but prey! This one doesn’t even have magic and you tell me she holds the end of your leash? Rot and nonsense! You think to make me a fool.”

Integra’s eye flashed behind her glasses, “We are the Hellsing Organization, we serve under the Crown’s mandate to protect England’s public from attack by vampires and all other damned creatures. The only thing restricting my wrath is that you choose to live among wizards, who have been granted leave by the Crown to police their own populations. Though I would suggest you partake a refresher course in world history should you survive this encounter with my servant Alucard.”

“Do you wish for him to survive, my Master?” Alucard asked.

“I leave that to you,” Integra replied as she looked over the motley group and loosened the hilt of the saber at her waist, and unsnapped the strap holding her gun in her shoulder holster.

The resulting duel was sadly anti-climatic. Alucard and Levi took the requisite ten paces, turned and in less than the blink of an eye Alucard had his teeth firmly set in Levi’s throat. Once he had taken his fill, Alucard dropped the defeated vampire onto the filthy cobbles and spoke with a voice full of scorn, “Levi, you are a childish fool. Be glad that tonight I was looking more for information than I was for a fight, and thank whatever god you pray to that you have restrained your thirst and restricted your hunts to the Wizarding World.”

Leaving the drained husk of Levi laying in a crumpled heap, Alucard turned to face Integra giving her a shallow bow, “Mission accomplished, my Master. I now have current information on the English Wizarding World that should prove useful for our search.”

Before they could turn to leave the grimy alley, one of the observing vampires spoke, “Just a minute! I... I’ve never seen anyone move like that... Who the hell are you, really?”

“Did you not hear?” Integra barked, “He told you all you need to know... but, if you need another clue... spell his name backwards.”

The vampire’s eyes flashed and he snarled, “You’ve no place to talk, whore! It’s disgusting that one of our kin even claims to have a human as a ‘Master’! It is a farce! No human could rule over a vampire, you are all weak, you puny mortal!”

“Alucard, leave the wizards alive. For the others, you know our mandate and our charge. Return to the Manor when you finish,” Integra commanded. “Seras, take me home.”

“Yes, Master of my Master,” Seras chirped as she wrapped Integra in her shadows and vanished from the alley.

Once Integra left Alucard turned his attentions to the others in the alley and allowed his face to split in a vicious grin. At the sight the remaining wizards beat a hasty retreat, abandoning the three vampires and werewolf. “You may run if you like,” Alucard offered. “If you succeed in reaching the steps of Gringotts I’ll not harm you tonight, and you may go on your merry way.”

As Alucard completed his offer the third vampire turned tail and bolted. With a snap of his fingers, the Count manifested part of himself as a hellhound and sped off in pursuit, before turning his attention to the remaining trio. Lucas, Levi’s Second who’d badmouthed Integra, stood guard over the fallen vampire while the werewolf stalked around the edges of the confrontation, looking for an opening. Alucard simply stared at Lucas as he tracked the Were with the muzzle of Casull. The two of them made their move once they’d stood opposite Alucard, and if it had been anyone else at least one would have landed a hit. As it was the heavy rapport of Casull signaled the end of the Werewolf, its head dissolving into a fine red mist, while Alucard lunged into the vampire’s attack, his hand a knife blade that punched through Lucas’ chest, destroying the heart and rendering the upstart into dust. Alucard then turned to the whimpering pile of robes that contained Levi, he crouched down and addressed the prostrate vampire, “Of course Levi, you realize now how I know your sire couldn’t be Dracula, yes? Do you recall the little blond who came here with my Master? Seras is barely in her thirties and she is ten times the vampire you are. I would never have offered you the choice, and when I find out who is acting in my name, without my authority, I will take great pleasure in destroying them and rendering whatever paltry empire they’ve built into dust.”

Levi’s eyes rolled madly in his skull as he let out a feeble screech, before Casull barked once more leaving nothing but a pile of robes covered in dust and grime on the cobbles. As an afterthought Alucard sent some of his shadows through the robes and clothes of his fallen foes, snagging their purses, wallets, and any jewelry, weapons or wands from the remains. It would all be helpful to Integra as she considered whatever candidates he found. As he faded away from the alley Alucard determined that a few more visits would be necessary before he could begin to form an opinion on the possibility that the Wizarding World could provide any appropriate candidates. So far, he was less than impressed, although the blood pop he’d gotten was quite tasty.

Back at the Manor Alucard sat in his high backed chair with the pocket contents of his vanquished foes spread over his side table. Most was of little note: photo ID’s; a couple of credit cards; non-magical pocket change; a receipt or two; but then there were the other odd bits, both Levi and Lucas carried wands and the Werewolf had a small Gringotts pouch tied around his neck that yielded a small handful of Wizarding currency and a couple of potions. Truthfully Alucard had been hoping for a bit more, but considering he’d been accosted in Knockturn Alley he wasn’t terribly surprised. One look had told him that the inhabitants of that district were folks who were best compared to the rats that thrived on the refuse of civilization, only rarely scoring a piece of ‘cheese’ that would elevate them out of the gutters. Keeping a few Wizarding coins for himself, Alucard transported the rest to the Hellsing labs for study and analysis. He then turned to the newest addition to his chambers and booted up the personal computer that lay on a desk to begin work on his report to Integra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Integra and Alucard tends to be a bit of a power trip. I hope I've captured their essence well enough for everyone.


End file.
